Small Steps
by Mikkorama
Summary: After suffering a less than stellar break-up, Dave wallows in despair. That is, until his best friend's cousin transfers to their school. highschool/humanstuck DaveJade
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys. I started working on this davejade fic recently, though I'm not going to make any promises about finishing it. Jade doesn't show up quite yet but she will. If anyone is offended by slight daverezi, no matter how fleeting, then my sincerest apologies. Thanks for reading! .**

** x**

The air is hot and heavy under the blanket fort the two of you had made; body heat mixed with the difficulty the air was having in getting in and out. It is also probably the blood rushing to your face, lighting you up like a goddamn traffic light. Hit the brakes and sit tight. No go for the Strider, gotta wait for the next light. Honking the horn ain't gonna make it go any faster, just annoy everyone involved.

"What's the hold up, cool kid?" Terezi says from under him.

Right, you are on top of her, holding yourself up with your arms, making no contact with her body. She had taken off her shirt, her bra completely exposed.

She is waiting for you, the impatience in her voice more than just a hint. Come on, Strider. The coast is all clear, no one is coming from the other lanes, just go. The light's gotta turn green soon, anyway. Right?

Just go. Kiss her. Touch her. Whatever it is she wants you to do just do it you. Put the pedal to the metal and just floor the shit out of it right now.

'Why don't you take off the rest of that right now?' you want to say.

"Uh, yeah. Right." Instead, the words tumble out of your mouth with all the grace of a cocaine-addled ballerina dancer after a night out on the town.

It should be easy. Just lean in there and plant your lips on hers like shes a fucking delicious bottle of apple juice.

But what if you can't do it properly? What IS the proper way? Are you supposed to do something with your tongue or do you just peck her on the lips? You wouldn't want her to be put off by you being too forward or something. Shit, all those crappy romance novels you read for ironic research purposes never made it sound this hard. Who would have known that the great Dave Strider could have such trouble doing the simple act of kissing a girl?

"Why don't I help you out a bit," she says and lifts her arms up above your head, letting them fall behind your neck.

You feel embarrassed to have to be helped out but oh god she's right in your face now. She pulls herself up, stopping just short of kissing you herself.

You can tell she expects you to go the rest of the way.

The light is green, idiot. People behind you are getting testy and honking now. You're holding up the line of busy people, Strider. Gotta let them go, Strider. Just. Do. It.

She sighs and suddenly there's a massive pile up. Not even you know the magnitude of what havoc you have wrought quite yet.

She sets herself back down on the floor and scoots out from under you.

You feel you may have fucked up. Real bad. You knocked over your cup of coffee all over the computer panels. You can see the self-destruct button and the cup falling towards it in slow-motion. You might be able to reach for it and salvage the situation.

She starts putting her shirt back on.

Your finger grazes the cup but fails to grab on.

"I can't do this anymore, Dave."

The cup lands comically right next to the button, teetering between falling on it or barely missing it.

"I don't want to wait for you to get shit together."

You want to tell her that you can do it, than you won't make her wait anymore. You're sorry that you're kind of indecisive but it's only because you're deathly afraid of making her feel uncomfortable. Jesus fuck, Strider just tell her so she doesn't leave you, you bumbling idiot grab that cup and hit the gas and fix this shit.

But you don't, of course. She's already made up her mind and you can't do anything to change it.

"We're over."

The cup tips over, the cars all crash and burn. Everyone dies. You have ruined everything.


	2. Chapter 2

You drive home, not thinking about anything. The streets are empty. It is the middle of the night, after all. Every red light that stops you serves as a cruel reminder of how you fucked up. But you have to stay calm. Don't think right now. You can hold it all in like you always do. Just get home, lie down, go to sleep, and wake up tomorrow. You just have to get through this moment and you'll be fine.

You open the door. The house is dark, quiet. You know what's going to happen, though you wish you were wrong. You're really not in the mood.

A shuriken flies towards you from the darkness and hits the wall behind you a few inches next to your head. One of your bro's insufferable strifes.

"Bro, not today. I am not in the mood."

"The world doesn't stop when you don't feel like it, Dave," came bro's disembodied voice from somewhere in the house.

"Goddammit I'm serious. Not right-" You get cut off by a sword slash coming horizontally at your head. By now, your responses have become instant and automatic when it comes to your bro's attacks, and you dodge out of the way almost effortlessly.

"Bro!"

A sword lands at your feet, clearly meant for you. You kick it aside.

"I said I'm not in the mood!"

Unfortunately, your bro can be very insistent. He comes at you again, this time dropping from the ceiling with a vertical slice. You step to the side effortlessly once more.

The place is dark, but numerous strifes have made you cognizant of every inch of the space, even in near total darkness. Only one thing was different this time. Your foot lands on the sword you kicked away and you fall over.

"Fucking ow!" You yell, more out of frustration than any physical pain.

Faster than you can get up, he's over you, sword plunged into the ground next to your face, foot on your chest holding you down.

"What's the matter little dude?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." You really don't.

"You have two options, Dave." You can just barely make out his hand, holding up his index finger.

"One: you pick up this sword and fight me."

He adds his middle finger. "Two: you tell me what's wrong."

"I don't want either of those options. I just want to go to sleep."

Bro stands silently and after a moment seems to lift weight off his foot ever so slightly. You almost expect that just this once he'll let you go.

"Then let me give you some incentive." He grabs your glasses and absconds into the darkness.

"Oh, you piece of shit! Gimme back the shades!"

"Come get them."

OK, fine. The bait has been cast, adorned with a cute little trinket that swishes fetchingly in the stream. How could anyone expect you to keep your gluttonous mitts off that shit? They couldn't. You're gonna grab that fucker and chow down; it is the food and wine to your Ciacco.

You stand up and put your hand on the hilt of the sword. Too heavy, clumsy, not suited to your tastes. You'd look like an arthritic baby trying to accomplish anything with that. Besides, your bro's shitty swords were never quite shitty enough for you. Instead, you jab it deeper into the floor, making sure any security deposits on the house are never coming back, hold onto the handle, and deliver a swift kick to the side of it. The sword breaks in half, cementing it's status as useless infomercial fodder.

Eat your heart out, Arthur. Didn't need to pull anything out of any fucking rock. Shoulda just snapped it in half.

Perhaps you'd be disqualified from becoming a king, or a prince even. But maybe they'd all sigh and give you at least some sort of consolation prize. The title of Knight, possibly. But first order of business: get your shades back.

You tread cautiously. Your bro is somewhere in the dark, so running around haphazardly is the worst possible option. You need to be quiet, listen for any errant noises, and assume that they're all traps. Your bro is a fucking ninja and would never be beat because of something as pedestrian as an accidental noise.

Something falls in the kitchen, an obvious red herring, but who can keep from paying attention to anything that isn't just abject silence. If anything, you now know that he's definitely NOT there. A sick game of Marco Polo where the person you're looking for could be anywhere but the source of the voice. Possibly even right behind you.

You turn and swing your broken sword behind you. You step on something soft that lets out a squeak as your foot comes down on it. One of your bros ironic smuppets. Another response to your Marco call. Of course he's not there. But he was. He's always right there, always right out of your grasp. You are Tantalus and your thirst is, as always, unquenchable.

A hand is on your shoulder. You grab it and chuck whatever it is across the room. For a split second, you see the eternally smiling face of your bros favorite lil' shit, Cal. It is overtaken by the darkness, but you never hear it hit anything or land. He's ridiculously fast. You know you can't win. You never do. These strifes are as Sisyphean as they are taxing on your mental state.

"Just come out and fight me so we can get this over with!" There's no reason to be stealthy when he obviously knows where you are at all times. It's time to pull the plug on this charade.

You see the glint of a rouge ray of light on his sword and prepare yours to block his strike. A sharp clang echoes in the house and for a moment the two of you are face to face. Your glasses are on his face on top of his own ridiculous anime shades. You reach for them and he leans backwards, coming back around with another strike. You block this one, too, and make another attempt for the glasses. He dodges back again and kicks your feet out from under you. You fall to the floor once more and bro disappears from your view.

"Give me back my fucking shades, you ass!" you yell from the floor. You are so fucking sick of this shit right now.

"What, did I make you angry? Distract you from whatever was on your mind?" His voice is alarmingly close by.

"How am I supposed to focus on anything when you're coming at me with a sword in the pitch black!"

"Good, good."

The lights turn on and you are blinded for a while. When you can see again, bro is sitting next to you, holding your glasses towards you.

You take deep breaths like the pregnancy support groups always tell you. Calm yourself again. Don't need any fucking ulcers.

You grab the shades and put them back on.

He ruffles your hair slightly. "Feel better, little bro. Get some rest."

He gets up and goes wherever it is he goes. You never really know where he is at any given point. Weird ass elusive guy always knows what's up and how to help. You stay on the floor, thankful for the few minutes of relative peace of mind you had. The siren song of your bed calls to you, beckoning you to validate its existence. You are more than happy to oblige. You are so tired. Going to school tomorrow oughta be a fucking blast.


	3. Chapter 3

The alarm wakes you up, your dream still fresh in your memory. You've seen it many times before, but instead of affirming your feelings for your now ex-girlfriend, it only seems to remind you of how you fucked it all up.

It wasn't the same as always, though, and as much as you hate it, you should probably talk to Rose about it. All her fussing and meddling about your dreams can be frustrating, but she's good at it. You'll try to keep from telling her what happened last night. That's not the path you want to go down right now.

You grab a shirt and walk over to your computer. She's online.

Just play it cool.

– TurntechGodhead [TG] began pestering TentacleTherapist [TT] at 7:01 -

TG: hey

TG: hey rose

TG: hey

TG: i guess youre off somewhere

TG: probably putting on your face or whatever

TG: meanwhile ill just be here chilling all by myself as usual

TG: gonna pop open this bag of chips and chow down

TG: im watching its a wonderful life except im george bailey

TG: its me

TG: and theres no ghost

TG: so instead im visited by your stone cold silence and visions of how the world would be better off without me

TG: ok but i seriously wanted to talk to you about something here

TG: i mean i would talk to john instead if i could but hes never available in the morning youre literally my only option right now

TG: not to mention the guys dumb as a doornail sometimes

TG: oh my god

TG: i am literally begging you to come over here and open that can of pseudo intellectual psychobabble spouting flesh eating worms

TG: just dump them all over my face god knows i deserve it

TG: rose

TG damn it.

TG: how long does it take to put on lipstick and spread some powder on your face

TG: are you speaking to the elder gods in there

TG: we all know youre into chtulhu

TG: cthulhu? whatever doesnt matter either way

TT: Hello

TG: oh jesus its a miracle

TT: What's this about you wanting to talk to me?

TG: i had that dream again and i felt like you should know

TG: being my unofficial dream analyzer

TT: I thought you were sick of me prodding into the deepest recesses of your mind, not that you have to go all that deep to find the blatant homoeroticism in nearly everything you say.

TG: yeah well its the same damn dream weve talked it to death already not much more you can pick out of it

TT: Just so we're clear, this is the dream about the, hold on let me check my notes.

TT: Something about thousands of individual phallic symbols?

TG: yeah exactly

TG: the one where the flying tentacle dicks just ram themselves into my mouth one after the other

TG: they just cant contain themselves the frisky little bastards

TG: then i guess your mom shows up cuz apparently thats one of my things?

TG: thanks to your weird conspiracy theory about us being related or some shit

TG: then freud and oedipus climb out of their fucking graves and play a nice friendly game of chess on my back

TG: every piece is shaped like an erect dick by the way

TG: whenever one gets removed from the board they just shove it up my ass

TG: does that about cover all my bases?

TT: I failed to pick up on any traces of your inferiority complex.

TG: right bro shows up at some point too and basically just flaunts all his cool irony in my face cuz we all know i can never be as successful in life much less with romantic relationships

TT: Ah, and there we have it, it seems.

TG: fuck

TT: You and Terezi broke up?

TG: goddammit

TG: yeah we broke up but thats not what i wanted to say

TG: at least not directly

TG: the point was that i had the same dream again but it ended earlier than usual

TT: And what exactly was the cut off point?

TG: well so it went along exactly the same as always but then right before she smooched me instead of having my grand resurrection i just woke up

TT: Do you think it has something to do with your break up?

TG: yeah that was my amateur assumption

TG: like we already dissected this beast and cut it up into little pieces and figured out everything i think

TG: and i dont think figuring out the meaning behind this change should be all too fucking hard considering the circumstances

TG: but i thought it might be a good idea to consult you in case there was something in your books that mentions very specifically that the change means that im actually a dolphin or something

TG: i dont know

TT: Well you should be glad to know that I'm pretty sure you're still a hominid of some sort.

TT: As for the meaning, it's very likely that you are correct with your assumptions.

TT: Your lack of 'payoff' probably means that you feel like your initial sacrifice was in vain, so to say.

TT: You sacrifice yourself knowing that she can and will bring you back with a kiss, but she doesn't.

TT: I can't say I know how exactly your split happened, but am I to assume it wasn't very positive?

TG: you could say that

TT: Then that would probably indeed be the case. You may feel betrayed, let down, perhaps? You expected her to be there for you and she wasn't. Is that about what you were thinking?

TG: yeah i guess

TT: Well that pretty much covers that, I guess. Maybe you should look more into dream analysis, it's not completely lost on you.

TG: yeah id love to pick apart the dicks in my own dreams then afterwards maybe i can find out what the fuck is going on in your fucked up mind

TT: Yes, perhaps so.

TT: But I believe it is about time for the both of us to get ready. It is a Monday, you know.

TG: yeah yeah let me just grab my fucking panties

TT: Lovely. And Dave.

TG: yeah

TT: I'm sorry about Terezi, really. Meager words may not be of help to you but it is the best I can muster at the moment, so I do hope they offer at least some comfort.

TT: Though, how you expected to be able to tell me about your dream without me figuring that out I'll never know

TG: yeah bad plan maybe but thanks

TT: I'll see you at school.

TG: sure bye

- TentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering TurntechGodhead [TG] at 7:13 –

Real cool, chumpass


	4. Chapter 4

You find the table outside the school buildings which, for all intents and purposes, belongs to you and your small group of friends. You sat there pretty much on the first day of school in your first year and just never bothered switching. Three years go by pretty fast once you get used to the rhythm. And you know all about rhythm, don't you? Of course you do.

Here, we'll let you demonstrate while we wait for the rest of your crew to show up:

Hopping in place, trying to extend my reach

Keeping shit outside my range I do beseech

Just hook a brother up with some goddamn stability

But for some fucking reason that's beyond my ability

Like Kim and Kris my game is naught but abject pathos

Like Zeus and Hera, add dysfunctional to my mythos

Ok no that was actually really shitty and you're sorry for subjecting anyone to that God are you glad that no one was around to hear it. You're really not in the best state of mind for good raps right now. You don't even really want to be here right now. But you'll revisit the topic later, probably.

Rose appears noiselessly, sets her bag aside and sits down next to you, a godsend distraction.

"Hello, Dave."

"Hey."

"How are you feeling."

"Fine."

She gives you a look. She knows it's not true, shouldn't take a genius to figure out you're not. You can probably hide it fine from outsiders, but Rose knows the situation. She doesn't pursue the line of the questioning any further. Bless her fucked up lovercraftian soul.

You talk with her about various things, none of which are important or even relevant. It doesn't matter what it is. Anything. You know the moment you aren't distracted your mind will regress to a different topic. You won't be able to avoid it forever, obviously, but you'll take whatever you can get.

Unfortunately, certain things can very easily break down the wall you started building around it. One of them being Her.

You go to the same school, of course. How could you not see Her or run into her at some point?

You spot Her from across the campus. She probably just showed up. In a normal situation She would have walked over to you, an honorary addition to your humble little group. It helped that John and She were already friends from before.

But this isn't a normal situation, and She doesn't come over. You think She turned her head in your direction for a moment before walking in another direction. Was Her head tilted down? Was She upset? You simultaneously hope She's okay and wish that She is at least a little bit sad about you.

You wonder who drove her here. That had been your job before.

Rose's hand lands on the top of your head and forces you to look away.

"Come on, playboy. Eyes over here."

You thank whatever higher being has decided to pay attention for your glasses. You can keep a straight face, but something must have gotten in your eye to make them water. Stupid fucking dust or some shit.

You feign a yawn and rub your eyes a bit. The perfect crime. The two of you resume talking until John shows up.

He comes up behind Rose and places his hands over her eyes.

"Guess who!"

"Hey, John," you say.

"No hints, you ass!" he yells at you.

"Hmm... Well it must be none other than Colonel Sassacre and this has to be one his pranks. Am I right?"

John laughs. "No, Rose! It's just me."

"I know John."

He takes his hands off her face but doesn't sit down. You and Rose turn around to face him.

"But hey! She's here, you know. In the office, getting some things sorted. She should be here in a bit," John says.

"That's nice. You'll have to introduce us, then," Rose responds.

"Who?" you say. You have no idea who they're talking about and it weirds you out. Rose clearly knows what's going on.

"Ugh. I told you dude! My cousin transferred here today."

"Oh. Right." You do recall him saying something like that now. A bunch of times, actually. Dude was super excited about it for a long time and wouldn't shut up. Must have slipped your mind around the time when your world fell apart. No biggie.

What had he said her name is? Jane? Jake? No that's a male name, idiot. Well whatever. You'll find out soon enough.

A few minutes later, a girl hurries to your table and stands by John. She looks at all of you and waves sheepishly.

"Hi!" The sound escapes from her lips as a tiny squeak.

John introduces her as Jade Harley, his cousin from Hawaii of all places. She lived there with her grandpa who had to leave on business matters and didn't want her to be all on her own. She moved here, to be close to her only other relatives. That would be John and his dad.

You all share most of your classes and a lot of time is spent on acclimating Jade to her new surroundings. This works well in occupying your mind for the most part. You didn't even share many classes with Her to begin with. Thankfully?

Anyway, she seems to take well to her new school.

At the end of the day you are all sitting around the parking lot, getting ready to go your separate ways.

John is going to drop off Jade at her place. She's staying in a hotel. For now, you guess? She didn't specify, but you can't imagine she'd be in a hotel for more than a few weeks at most.

"Almost there," a faintly recognizable voice says from behind you.

"Thank you for the help," a very recognizable voice says from behind you.

She's holding the arm of a girl, you think her name is Aradia. One of Her friends that you've met a few times in passing.

You stare at both of them as they walk past your group. Aradia gives you a reassuring, understanding smile and nod. You nod ever so slightly in return. She doesn't do anything and you wonder if She even knows you are right next to Her.

John and Rose say nothing. You can only assume either Rose told him, or She told him. Either way, he most likely knows, and that's probably something you couldn't have avoided anyway. Better than having him awkwardly call her over or something idiotic.

Jade gives you a puzzled look as she looks back and forth between you and Her.

She'll find out soon enough, too, you guess.

You part ways and drive home. The house is empty. No bro and no strife to take your mind off anything.

You climb into bed and try to get to sleep. Being all alone and conscious is the last thing you want right now.

You can feel the dark tendrils of sleep lapping at the edges of your consciousness. You are so emotionally and physically tired.

You sleep but don't dream.


End file.
